Press House building

BAUŽYTĖ Jūra, journalist, Vilnius

At about 12 p.m. on January 11 at the Press House you could hear shooting coming from the direction of Viršuliškės. Suddenly there was a report on the radio that paratroopers had secured the premises of the National Defense Department. An air-raid siren goes off. The radio announcer asks people to hurry to the Press House, as it is in danger.

People start to gather. From the eighth floor, I see three tanks approaching from the direction of Viršuliškės. Then a colleague from the Akmenė region news-paper staff phones and asks me about his article. I barely have enough time to tell him that we'll publish his article if we're still alive tomorrow, as military vehicles are surrounding us. I put the receiver down. The first tanks are approaching the main door of the Press House. The air-raid siren is still on. Two more tanks rumble to the staff entrance. Following them are trucks that paratroopers wearing helmets jump out of. They keep coming and coming, jumping over the sides of the trucks with automatic guns in their hands and hurrying to the entrance.

People are pouring in from all sides, some even carrying flags. In this area there aren't any factories or other large enterprise. The defenders of the Press House are mostly women, schoolchildren, and pensioners.

When I came to work I saw fire hoses stretched along the corridors. Those were the only weapons which were prepared to fight off the attackers. Some guys from the National Defense were guarding the hoses. Suddenly there's a volley of gun fire, followed by two more. The people in the street are chanting: „Lithuania! Lithuania!" and „Freedom!"

I see a young man, his head bleeding, being taken to a nearby ambulance. That evening we found out who that seriously injured man was - it was Vytautas Lukšys.

Soon the armed paratroopers start going up the stairs like ants. Up and up they go. First they're apparently trying to find the switch to turn off the air-raid siren that's already been shrilling for a number of minutes.

Two paratroopers, their tommy-guns aimed, stand by the door of the eight floor and order us to get out. Some of us start putting on our coats.But some time later the soldiers withdraw. We decide to stay at work as long as we're not driven out by force. I grab manuscripts and things that seem important and cram them into my handbag...

The shot of a gun resounds, the building shakes, and the windows in the corridor shatter. An entire troop of soldiers storm our editorial office, stand by the door and order us to leave immediately.

„No talking! Get out of here quickly!" shouts a senior officer, suddenly coming up to us. I follow the other joumalists down the stairs. The corridors are wet with water, and there's blood splashed here and there on the ground floor...

We pass a group of paratroopers and are thrown outside.

The faces of the defenders around the Press House are so young. Our children are so brave! They are still chanting: „Lithuania! Lithuania!" They're trying to find a common language with the paratroopers. An even bigger crowd is standing by the central building of the Press House. The tank guns are pointed at it, and the soldiers, armed with automatic guns, are guarding their „booty". One paratrooper loses his nerve. In order to disperse the crowd, he turns the tank around and the gun hits the window of our health-care center. The window flies out, frame and all. The dentist's drill seems to have received the biggest blow. The defenders of the press do not withdraw. They are chanting: „Shame! Shame!" Ouite a bit of time passes before they begin to disperse.

A large portion of the joumalists from the central newspapers are left without a roof over their heads, without their own printing house. But we believe that we will come back soon...